


April Showers

by meower808



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), sad boy hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28067346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meower808/pseuds/meower808
Summary: It's been months since Tommy was exiled, and time has not been kind. Philza comes to visit his son, but quickly he realizes that he may not be the same person that he was, and it's all because of a certain masked man.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 667





	1. Soil

**Author's Note:**

> May the Sad boy hours commence. 
> 
> CW// for manipulation, mentions of self harm and negative thoughts (This is for the fic as a whole, I'll add more specific warnings to each chapter) 
> 
> Also, friendly reminder that this is about the characters and not the actual people. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW// manipulation

Philza hadn’t seen Tommy in quite some time. The trek from Techno’s house to his youngest son’s place of exile was a long one, and he had only ever made it once before. Now, he felt, was the right time. He packed his things and looked out over the fallen snow. 

  


Phil turned in the doorway to face his eldest son “Are you sure you don’t want to come? Tommy’s been out there for some time now. You two haven’t talked in a bit.” 

  


Technoblade shook his head. “He doesn’t want to see me. He made that perfectly clear. The feeling is mutual.”

  


“He’s your brother, Techno. You should visit him anyway.”

  


Techno sat down and opened a book, avoiding Phil’s gaze. “If I change my mind, you’ll be the first to know.” 

  


Philza sighed and turned back to the tundra. He had no time to waste; Tommy’s birthday was on the horizon. 

  


\-----

  


“April showers bring May flowers.” Tommy had once heard. What a load of crap. Tommy sat huddled in his tent in Logstershire, the coat of his deceased older brother wrapped tightly around his aching shoulders. All the rain had ever given him were nights spent with his back to the wet tarp of his tent. Last night was no different. 

  


Even now a gentle rain fell from the overcast sky, giving the ground no chance to dry. Tommy was left to drag his bare feet through the mud as he made his way to Logstershire proper. The dirt caked to his blistered skin, weighing down each step. 

  


“Hey Henry.” Tommy whispered, gently petting the strawberry colored cow. “S-sorry you got left out in the rain. Next month better have some banger flowers growing up for you to snack on.”

  


The animal let out its signature lowing noise, and Tommy appreciated their mutual acknowledgement of the foul weather. He politely picked a few mushrooms growing on the cow’s back. “Always doing your part, h-huh Henry? Good boy.”

  


Tommy snacked while he walked, trying to keep his mind away from the wet, the cold, the mud on his skin, and holes in his shirt. He didn’t have what it took to take care of himself most days, not that it would be easy, even for a functional person, out in the middle of who knows where. At least he was eating. Tommy had thinned since he had been exiled at the dead end of Fall. However, with spring came a new beginning, one that Tommy hoped to capitalize upon. 

  


The rain had stopped now, and Tommy stood over the ground, tilling the soil with a freshly crafted iron hoe. Every inch of him hurt. He hadn’t exerted himself in weeks. He looked up, shielding his face as the sun peeked between the clouds, revealing it to be almost 1 in the afternoon. 

  


The brilliant light the sun offered was never there to wake him up in the rainy season. Not that he wanted to wake up when it was, but the sun and his hunger pains could make it hard to go back to a light sleep. 

  


Tommy was just about to return to his work while he still held an ounce of motivation within himself, before he heard a familiar voice that sent shivers down his spine.

  


“Hey Toms. You’re sure hard at work.” 

  


Dream.

  


Tommy had a slight smile on his face when he had seen the sun, but it had since faded. He let a forced laugh escape his chapped lips. Having company was nice, even crap company he supposed. “Hey Dream.” Gosh his voice was hoarse. Dream hadn’t visited in a while, and the only person he had had to talk to was Henry, who he only whispered to, and Ghostbur, who had, ironically enough, been ghosting him lately. “Just pr-preparing the land so I can plant something in the summer, y’know, while the weather’s good.” 

  


“Hmm, don’t I always get you what you need though?” The man stomped on a patch of dirt, filling in part of a till line. 

  


“I-I know, I just wanted to-“

  


“What? To get your own food? That’s an awful lot of work isn’t it? I hardly see you up and about this place. You really think you could handle it?” He kicked up some soil. 

  


Tommy faltered. He had been excited to start his own garden, but as always, Dream was right. 

  


“No worries though!” Dream put his arm over his shoulder and Tommy flinched, the human contact rippling through him like a current. “I’ve got your back. That’s what friends are for right?”

  


“Right...” Tommy answered quietly. Dream led him away from his previous pursuit, taking unusually heavy steps on the cultivated soil. 

  


\-----

  


“That hoe you’ve got there, drop in the hole.” 

  


Tommy looked up from the jukebox. He had been letting Chirp play. Dream stood leaning on a netherite shovel over a small spot he had clearly just dug. Tommy quickly and carefully placed the disk back in his Ender chest before returning to drop his tool in the hole without question.

  


“Is that everything you have? Empty your pockets.” 

  


Tommy turned his pockets inside out, not saying a word. Dream didn’t like complaints. He had only some remaining mushrooms from Henry and an axe he had used to find wood when his tent had broken earlier in the week. 

  


“Hmm, the axe too.” Tommy threw it in. “What about that compass of yours? I spotted it in your Ender chest.”

  


“Mm, yeah, i-it’s the one that points to…” He didn’t want to say the name. 

  


Dream finished his sentence for him. “Tubbo, yeah.” He huffed. “Why would you even hold onto that? He got rid of his ages ago, remember?”

  


“I know.”

  


“Give it to me.”

  


“But-”

  


“You heard me, hand it over.”

  


Tommy hesitated for a second, but only before remembering something Dream had told him months ago when he had first been exiled:

  


\---------

  


“Drop your armor in Tommy.”

  


“Or what?”

  


“Let me set something straight with you Tommy, if you’re asking me ‘Or what,’ I need you to know the answer is always going to be ‘Or I’m going to kill you or worse.’ Now please, drop it in.”

  


\-------

  


Tommy shuddered and grabbed the compass from his chest, letting the gentle purple glow give color to his pale face for a moment. He handed the compass over to Dream, his thumb grazing over the inscription one last time before his prized possession fell into the last hands that would ever hold it. Your Tubbo.

  


With a crack it hit the ground, glass shattering against the hard ground. Dream dropped a lighter to the bottom of the pit, setting the items ablaze. He was thankful Dream hadn’t made him do it this time. 

  


Tommy couldn’t wrench his eyes away from the flames. He longed to reach out and touch them with his already bandaged hands.

  


“You know I’m doing this to protect you Tommy. Tubbo doesn’t care about you, not a soul in L’manburg does. No one except...” He pulled Tommy into a suffocating hug. “Me.”

  


“You.” Tommy echoed. He buried his face in Dream’s shoulder. “Just you.” 

  


  


\---------

  


The trip took longer than Philza had hoped. Rainy season meant snow in the tundra, which did a traveler such as himself no good. However, the determination of a father should never be underestimated. He wanted to make sure his youngest son was doing okay. Dream was a wildcard for sure, and he of all people had taken on watching him. Tommy was probably doing alright though. Dream was powerful, surely capable of getting the boy whatever he needed. 

  


He arrived at an empty camp. No Dream, no Tommy, just quiet. Phil dropped his pack near the wall of a log fort, the one he assumed Tommy was most likely staying. A cow greeted him with a polite moo as he knocked on the door to a small building. No answer, but it was unlocked. Peeking inside, he found no one. A picture of L’manburg was hung on the wall, taken back around Christmas. Tommy had definitely been here. Ghostbur was supposed to be here too, right? His… other son. 

  


He left the small fort and wandered down the shoreline, calling out for his son. He had to be here. Dream wouldn’t have let him go back to L’manburg, he knew that for sure. 

  


“Tommy? You out here?” He cupped his hands around his mouth to let the sound carry. He was sure this was his camp.

  


“Phil?”

  


He spun around to see his youngest son stepping out of a nearby Nether portal.

  


“Tommy!” He ran up to him and pulled his son into a gentle hug. Phil didn’t notice him flinch at the contact. “I’m so glad that you’re-”

  


He stopped as he got a good look at Tommy. He didn’t look okay. His feet were bare and covered in burns, bandages ran from his hands and up his arms past the torn sleeves of his shirt, scratches and smudges of dirt littered his face. His eyes weren’t blue any longer, the jewel tone now replaced by a cloudy grey. 

  


Philza frowned deeply. “Where’s Dream?”

  


“He’s s-still in the nether, he’ll be back soon… I think.” Tommy wrapped his arms around himself and looked down. “Why are you e-even here, Phil? It’s been m-months since the beach party. Y’know, the one you didn’t come to?” 

  


A stutter? He was pretty sure Tommy hadn’t had one of those before. 

  


“Tommy… I didn’t receive an invitation…”

  


“N-no, that can’t be right!” He shook his head. “Wilbur said he would deliver them! A-and Dream… Dream told me everyone got theirs.” 

  


Phil didn’t know what to think about that and opted to fuss over his youngest instead of pushing the issue. “Well… there must have been some mistake, and I’m here now. Where is your armor? You shouldn’t be leaving the overworld without it. Look at your feet, all blistered. Didn’t I give you shoes last time I came? No matter, I’ve got you another pair-”

  


Tommy pushed Philza away. “Stop it,” He spat. “I don’t need your pity things.” 

  


“Tommy,” Philza cupped his face gently, rubbing away some of the dirt. “I’m your dad, I give you things because I care about you, not because I pity you. I love you.”

  


Tommy scoffed. “Actions speak louder than words. And yours s-sure have said a lot these past few months.” 

  


“Please, just-”

  


A voice spoke up from the nether portal. “Hands off Philza.” Phil took a quick step back as a porcelain mask came into view. Dream set a firm hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You alright?”

  


“Yeah. Just Phil’s here trying to give me his pity.” 

  


Dream let out a small laugh. “Bit late for that. Look, you can stay if Tommy wants, but I doubt it.”

  


Phil gave a pleading look to his son. He was here for him. Techno and he both knew Tommy might not want company, but he was willing to fight for his family.

  


“F-fine.” Tommy mumbled as he started to wander off. “I’ve got an extra tent set up.” 

  


“Tent?” Philza asked, turning to Dream. “Don’t tell me he still doesn’t have a house? It’s been 4 months! And you’ve been here with him! What have you been doing all this time?” 

  


“That’s for me to know. He’s alive. Isn’t that enough for you? I’m not his caretaker anyway. I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t violate the terms of his exile. Now, you ought to go set up your things. Not that it will matter. I doubt you’ll be here long.”

  


Phil huffed and began towards Logstershire to grab his pack. As he passed Dream, however, a whisper met his ears. “He’s mine, Philza.” He could almost hear the sick grin behind that mask of his. 

  


“You bastard.” Philza swung his fist, hitting Dream square in the jaw and cracking the bottom half of the painted porcelain plate. Before Dream could pull out his sword, Tommy came running back from his tent, aghast at the sight of fighting. 

  


“Could you two NOT?”

  


\-----------

  


Dream had left hours ago, pretending not to be nursing a bruised jaw and claiming to have important things to do. Now it was just them. Philza had been hoping for father-son bonding, but as the sun set, it was looking more and more like that might not happen. Tommy was silent, something he was not known to be, and it unsettled Phil.

  


“You’re awful quiet.” 

  


“Mhmm.” Tommy hummed “Not many people to t-talk to out here.” 

  


“Right, sorry.”

  


“Don’t apologize. You know I don’t like that.”

  


Philza held back a second sorry. “Has no one else really visited you?”

  


“Ranboo used to- used to come around, but it’s just been me for a while now.” 

  


“You and Dream.”

  


“Y-yeah. He’s the only one who really cares. He doesn’t pity me.”

  


“Isn’t he the reason you’re here?”

  


Tommy scoffed and stood to his feet. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

  



	2. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil witnesses a "bonding moment," between Tommy and Dream and regrets taking a trip to the Nether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// Manipulation , Suicidal Thoughts

Tommy had seen Clara in the stars that night, there with Phil, just as he had the many nights he was alone. Chirp echoed in his mind like a person who wasn’t there. Having Phil with him only made him more lonely: a visitor now was just a bittersweet reminder of all the time he had spent without company. He felt a little selfish. That’s probably why no one bothered to visit.

Unlike most nights, Tommy fell asleep quickly. He was too tired to think about all that plagued him, and his aches drowned out any thought. He saw that astronaut woman in his dreams, but Phil saw something else in the dead of night. 

\----

Phil awoke to the sound of shuffling. It was late. Early? Hard to say, but it was still dark out. 

‘Tommy?” He called, exiting his tent bleary eyed. He peered through the entrance of Tommy’s tent to find an empty bed. _This couldn’t be good._

“Tommy?!” His mind became alert, eyes darting across the field and shoreline as his eyes adjusted to the dark. Doing a full 360, Phil spotted his son on the beach headed towards the ocean. 

Phil hurried towards his son before coming to a stop next to him. “What’s going on?” Tommy didn’t react. His eyes were open yet unseeing as he walked into the ocean, already shin deep in saltwater. He waved a hand in front of the boy’s face. _Sleepwalking._

Tommy mumbled unintelligibly as Phil put a hand on his back. “Hey, hey. Let’s get you back to your tent.” 

\----

Tommy seemed listless throughout the day. He mined, gazed wistfully at a farm that looked like it got stomped on, sat listening to his disc, and little else. Philza was there to keep him company, but similar to the previous night, he wasn’t much of a talker. It wasn’t only Tommy’s words that had changed, something in his eyes did. Not just the color either, the light, the hope. It was gone, and that emptiness reflected in everything he did. Despite this, Phil refused to believe how broken his son had become. But the day wasn’t over yet.

“So what were you and Dream doing in the Nether yesterday? Maybe we could get some work done there.”

Tommy mumbled a quiet reply “Maybe. He and I were just-” 

That’s when he came through the portal.

“Speak of the devil.” Phil mused, watching the interacting between the two with curiosity and concern.

“Hey Tommy~” He called, his white mask emerging from the viscous purple haze like an apparition. 

“Dream!” Tommy called with unexpected warmth, greeting the man with open arms. “You came again today!” 

“I did! Just wanted to check up on you.” He said cheerily, pulling out a netherite shovel.

Tommy spotted the tool, and, for just a moment, there was something in his eyes. Fear? Anger? Joy? Phil’s concern deepened.

Dream began to dig “You know the drill.” 

“R-right.” Tommy began to quickly and nonchalantly take off his armor, the set he and Philza had crafted earlier that day. He had a smile on his face, but it wasn’t right. 

“What are you doing?” Phil put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You’ll want to wear that when we go to the Nether.”

Tommy shrugged him off, ceremoniously dumping his helmet and chest plate into the hole Dream had dug. “You wouldn’t underst-stand Phil. I-It’s kind of a bonding thing he and I do.” He pulled out his sword and dropped that in along with the rest. 

Dream patted his pockets like already he knew nothing was in them. “Do you have a lighter, Tommy? I seem to have misplaced mine.” 

“O-oh, sure…” Tommy whispered in reply. He carefully pulled a flint and steel from his pocket, running his thumb across the cold metal.

“Bonding?” Phil watched in horror as Tommy lit his own things on fire. They had just crafted them together. He was speechless.

The masked man dusted off his hands, a smug face surely underneath that unfeeling painted grin, sterile white illuminated by flame. “Now, what was that about going to the Nether?”

\----

Tommy closed his eyes as heat hit his face, the cold of the portal peeling from his skin like a film. The bridge leading towards the Nether hub was in poor repair. Whenever Tommy felt lonely, he would tear parts of it up. No one visited anyway, and It’s the only thing that worked when screaming didn’t.

“Can you help me fix it?” He asked. “The b-bridge, I mean.” 

_(He hated asking for things.)_

Phil nodded his head, accepting a small stack of obsidian. Dream was already working, patching bits of the bridge like he had done it before. (because he had)

Tommy grew nervous as their work brought them closer to the Nether hub. He didn’t like looking at the portal. There, he was a step away from death in every direction, including the one that took him home. 

_(It looked warm. What if he could touch it?)_

“Imma pop in to check up on the SMP. Wanna come Phil?” Dream stood by the portal, gloved hand on its rim. 

_(Why couldn’t he go through with Dream? It would be the same as jumping anyway. At least he might get to see L'manburg first)_

“I’m here for my son. I think i’ll pass.” 

“Suit yourself.” And he was gone.

Philza released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He certainly didn’t fear Dream, but there was something about how he carried himself that made Phil cautious. 

_(The warmth? Would it hold him like no one else did?)_

“C’mon kid, let’s finish this up before he gets back.” 

Tommy didn’t respond. 

“Tommy?” 

_(So close, the end of this pain was so, so close)_

Phil looked up and didn’t like what he saw. 

Tommy stood over the edge of the bridge, face cast downwards, accentuating the purple bags beneath his eyes. He had seen his son look over the netherscape before, but not like that.

“We should go.” He shook him by the shoulder. 

“Leave me be, Phil. It’s what you do best.” He took a small step forward, one that made it so he had to balance on his heels to stay on the bridge.

“C’mon don’t do that.” Phil physically pulled him away this time, keeping a hand in front of his chest. He wouldn’t be losing another son. Not like this. 

“Tsk.” Tommy stormed back to his portal.

It was undeniable. This boy was not the same one that he had met after the explosion. He hadn’t wanted to see it because it hurt too much. Maybe that’s where Ghostbur got his “forgetful” tendencies from.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s too much of a coward to do it.”

Philza flinched internally when he heard Dream, but didn’t show it. 

“I’m gonna fix this Dream. You can try to break him down, but I promised myself I wouldn’t ever leave my family to fall apart again. Not after what happened to Wilbur.”

“Sure, you’re here Phil, but so I am.”

“You know Dream; I came here for Tommy’s birthday. I decided he didn’t deserve to be alone tomorrow. But I shouldn’t be able to decide, because I can’t. He doesn’t deserve to be alone at all. I’m not leaving after tomorrow, or next week, or until I know he’s going to be okay. Techno is… Techno will be alright. This is the son that needs me right now.” 

“Birthday?” _Of course he didn’t know_ “You getting him anything?”

“Yup.” Phil pulled a disc wrapped in fabric from his pocket. “I think he’ll like it.” 

“A present won’t undo what i’ve done.”

“Maybe not, but it’s a start.” 

Philza left to check up on Tommy.

Dream mused to himself, “A birthday gift, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit dialogue heavy for my taste, but It's the only thing driving my plot forward >:((( (I only don't like dialogue because I feel like i'm bad at writing it :,) )
> 
> I know how I want this fic to end, so I at least have an idea how many chapters there are gonna be.


	3. Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream makes some strategic decisions and Phil makes plans to fix this mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW// Manipulation, (Minor) Physical Abuse 
> 
> Haha, notice how all the chapter titles are single words starting with S? Can you guess what the next one might be titled? :)

Tommy had woken up on his own that morning. Phil had urged him to rise the past few days, but something felt different about this one. The spring air filled his lungs, a gentle breeze lifting the flaps of his tent, revealing the ocean beyond. Each morning it had mocked him, remaining unrelenting even in the night. But now… it greeted him like a friend.

Stepping out from his tent, he noticed that someone was already standing outside, and it wasn’t Phil. Tommy rubbed his tired eyes to make sure what he saw was right.

The figure wore his usual green hood, a netherite vambrace adorning each forearm and a leather strap across his back. Dream had become an unmistakable sight, but Tommy wasn’t used to seeing Dream before Dream saw him. He had a habit of sneaking up on Tommy, often appearing like a ghost. He almost didn’t seem real like this: still, silent. 

Tommy flinched as the figure abruptly turned towards him, bone white mask coming into view.

“D-dream! G-good morning.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Morning, Tommy.”

“You’re kind of early? I think?” He looked up at the sun. It was definitely early. If he were to follow his pattern as of late, Tommy wouldn’t have even been awake yet. “I kinda j-just got up, so I have nothing to give for you to-“

“No, no.” Dream shook his head. “You don’t need to give me anything, Tommy.”

“Really?” Dream couldn’t take his things if he didn’t have any, he supposed. It was almost a shame they wouldn’t get to do their thing together. _(Why did that thought feel strange?)_

“That’s right. In fact…” He put his hand into his bag and carefully took out an object wrapped in beige cloth. “I got _you_ something.”

\------

It was gone. 

Phil scrambled to his feet after discovering a certain item missing from his bag. The gift was gone. He could get Tommy something else, maybe, but it wouldn’t be the same. He’d hate to leave Tommy at camp alone to go get a new gift. His mind raced as he hurried out of his tent. Tommy probably wasn’t even awake, he still had time-

Tommy _was_ awake, and he wasn’t alone. 

“Something for m-me?” His eyes lit up at the idea of a gift from Dream. 

“Of course! It’s your birthday after all.”

“I completely forgot. Time doesn’t mean much out here.” 

“It means something to me, Tommy. That’s what friends are for.”

Dream stood before his son, holding the item Philza had intended to give him. 

“Dream.” Phil bit back the animosity in his voice. 

“Philza Minecraft. You’re just in time to see Tommy receive his gift.” 

_The one I got him._ Philza fumed, but dared not say out loud. Tommy looked excited, Phil couldn’t ruin that. 

“How exciting. I’m so happy for you, Tommy.” Phil managed to say, giving his son a smile.

Dream handed over the gift. “Go on, Toms, it’s all yours.” 

Phil cringed at the nickname. Dream didn’t deserve to call him that.

Tommy unwrapped the gift carefully, like it was the only thing he had been given in his entire life and would shatter in his clumsy grip. His eyes lit up as the beige fabric fell away to reveal maroon polyvinyl around a gold center.

“H-holy crap. Is this?”

“Pigstep? That’s right.”

“No way!” He wrapped his arms around Dream, face faltering for a moment, unsure if such affection was allowed, before the dreamon returned the hug halfheartedly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you Dre!”

Voice dripping with malice, the painted smile lifted to face him. “I wonder what your dear old dad got you.” Dream felt like his judge and juror despite being the culprit himself.

Phil swallowed, trying to choose his words carefully. “Tommy-”

“I don’t need your excuses, Phil. I wouldn’t expect a-anything from you anyway.” Tommy stepped away from the hug and turned his eyes across the sea towards his home, his _real_ home. “I shouldn’t have ever expected anything from anyone in that goddamn country.” 

Phil was at a loss for words, but he couldn’t blame Tommy for feeling this way. Where had been during the wars? Where had he been on any day beforee the one on which he killed his own son? He couldn’t blame Tommy, no. He could blame himself. Phil had revealed his cards to Dream, the gift, when he was blinded by the pain his son felt. He could blame Wilbur or L’manburg itself for hurting Tommy so. That would be a waste of time here, though. He was here to help his son now, it seemed, when he needed him most. There was only one man he could hold accountable, and he stood a mere few feet away with a grin surely plastered on his face underneath that cold and unfeeling disc of bleached earthenware. 

He could reveal the gift was from him, but it was his word against Dream. Dream, who had crawled his way inside Tommy’s mind through his ear like a parasite. What could Phil do at this point? He was a normal man, a dad, with a son beyond recognition. 

“Tommy.” Dream broke up Phil’s thoughts. “I know exactly what you need. The Prime log, you love that thing.”

_The prime log?_

“Primes! Dream, you know me so well. Let’s go grab us some primes.” 

Phil watched Tommy sprint towards Logstead, Dream following lazily behind. 

“It’s over.”

Philza spun on his heel towards his “guest tent.”

_Not yet._

_\---_

Philza threw the few things he had with him into his bag. He couldn’t do this by himself. He had to get Technoblade, find Wil- Ghostbur. If he had to bring Tubbo into this, he would. There was no way he would stand for what Dream was doing. Tommy was meant to be exiled from the SMP, not tortured by the very man who claimed to protect it. 

Phil would say his farewells now and leave before noon. He refused to leave Tommy with Dream any longer than he had to. He certainly wasn’t going to stick around and watch.

\----

He wouldn’t stop that ringing damn bell.

Dream had mentioned the Prime Log to get Tommy away from Phil, but now, he just wouldn’t shut up. Today was the one day he didn’t want to yell at Tommy, make him ask questions. He needed to lock him in. He had worked on this boy for almost 6 months, broken him down just to build him back up in his own image. This would all be over once he was working for Dream, a malleable child soldier to bend to his whims. 

“You keep doing your thing, Toms.” Dream called, stepping away towards the small structure Ghostbur had built (before he had sent him into the wilderness) “I’m just gonna… go over here.” Tommy was distracted, so he stepped inside, the walls offering relief from the jarring repeated ring of the bell.

“God. This kid better-” He took a step, and the floor didn’t sound right. “Better…” Dream stomped on the terracotta floor, and it shook hollow. Did Ghostbur leave a space beneath the floor? No. That spirit could be empty-headed (and most of the time he was), but he was also very intentional with his builds.

Dream took out his pick, black netherite rippling with enchanted waves of violet. It was heavy in his hand. This better not be what he thought it was _, or there would be hell to pay._

\---

Tommy was still coming off the high of having received a gift from Dream. Not just armor, but Pigstep of all things. A disc! He gave the bell a final hearty ring before looking around for his friend (?) He vaguely remembered him having said he was stepping aside. His head sobered quickly when he heard a large crack from inside Ghostbur’s building. 

Tommy abandoned the prime log, running inside to face the same figure he had earlier that morning. Green hood, netherite plating his forearms, leather satchel now relieved of the pickaxe held in his white knuckle grip. 

“Dream? Is everything… Are you-” His eyes drifted to the floor. The bunker. He had hidden just a few items in preparation to retaliate someday, a day that never came. Tommy had given up on it months ago. He had given up on everything months ago, after the beach party, after Dream had told him Tubbo had destroyed his compass, after Dream had become his only friend and tether to the world. 

The man said nothing, jumping down from the floor into the small room exposed by the break in the terracotta. 

“D-dream, I can explain.”

“Dont.” He cautioned as he began looking through the chests, mostly empty, but some containing items seeming to be of no particular value. Some of them had value to Tommy, though. 

He jumped into the basement, catching himself on the ladder he had left there, which was just short of the new entrance by a few awkward centimeters. Tommy hastily grabbed a few old photos he hadn’t dared look at for months. And he dared not look at them now, cringing at the sound of them crinkling as he shoved them in his pocket before Dream could see. 

“You lied to me Tommy.” 

Tommy pulled his arms to his sides. “N-no, it’s not like that. Y-you see I-I-”

“I wouldn’t have even taken these from you!” Tommy flinched at Dreams raised voice. “I can’t believe this. I’m the only person you can trust, the only person who cares about you and you just-” He gestured to the room, hands dropping to the side and head tilting to the side with disappointment. 

_Dream, his only friend, was disappointed in him._ Tears welled up in his eyes. Tommy cried often, mostly for things he should have let go ages ago, that Dream would tell him were stupid. He was so, so stupid. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the image of a disappointed friend (?) before him. They flew back open however when he heard the hiss of TNT. Dream held a stick in his offhand and casually threw it towards the chests.

“No, no, n-no, Dream-” Tommy scrambled up the ladder, and could barely get a hold on to the crumbling edges of the hole in the floor before the TNT detonated. He felt a gust blow through his hair and the back of his neck go hot. He got onto his knees, kneeling on terracotta and not daring to look back. “D-dream. I’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so, so-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” Dream was standing behind him, still at the edge of the pit. Tommy snuck a glance at the man. His mask was streaked with scorch marks, the lifeless smile suddenly made far more sinister, and not just by the person wearing it. “Get back down here and drop your things.”

“I just- Phil and I we-” _Phil had helped him craft a new set of armor, even after Dream had destroyed the last one they made together. Come to think of it Phil-_

“All of it. In the pit.” Tommy dropped back to the ground and removed his iron armor, it too with new scorch marks.

“Everything, not just your armor.” 

“Wh-what?” Dream had never made him drop _everything_ , not since… “Look, look, I’ve got my armor here, see? I can- I can give it to you just like we always do. We don’t have to-”

Dream shoved Tommy towards the pit he had mined inside the crater just as he took off his last armor piece, causing him to stumble and face plant on the hard stone. “How about you get in the hole, Tommy?” 

“Okay, okay, okay.” Tommy gasped quietly. He dragged himself to his feet, ignoring the new scrapes on his elbows and blood from a bust lip as he frantically emptied his pockets, hands maneuvering around the photographs and pulling out his tools. He stopped with Pigstep. He should have put it in his E-chest as soon as he got it, but Dream knew he still had it. 

“You don’t deserve that.” Dream pulled the disc from Tommy’s trembling hands. He eyed it carefully, while Tommy just stared at his empty hands, gaunt, scraped, and unrecognizable to him. “I think I’ll hold on to this Toms. Just for safekeeping.” He shoved it in his pocket. 

Dream silently dropped a second stick of TNT in the small hole, pulling Tommy away from the second soon-to-be blast site by the wrist. He could still feel the heat on his back when it went off. 

Tommy wasn’t crying anymore. He had cried when Dream acted disappointed in him. He had cried on many days and nights for reasons he couldn’t name, but now he was in shock and the tears wouldn’t fall. His ears rang, and he almost didn’t register Dream pulling out another stick of TNT. 

\----

As he was packing, Phil felt the rumble of an explosion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than planned (which actually makes me happy since I have trouble writing long chapters) but I wanted a fit a certain set of events in this chapter. Same goes for next chapter. If I feel chapter 4 draws on too long, I'll split into two. 
> 
> If you see any typos, let me know. Since this one was extra long, it was also extra hard to grammar and spell check (I also wrote the bulk of this at 4 a.m) :')
> 
> And if you're reading this right after it was posted, Merry late Christmas! (Or Happy Holidays if you don't celebrate it)


	4. Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is in a daze as Dream destroys Logstershire, but a visitor arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, another chapter title starting with S. I wonder what letter the next one will start with. You'll never guess. 
> 
> CW // Manipulation, (Slight) dissociation

Tommy’s ears were ringing. The two blasts, the disappointed look his friend had surely given him from under that mask, the joy of a gift on his birthday quickly snuffed out, the weight of three polaroids in his pocket. It was all too much. Everything felt numb. The hand on his wrist wasn’t there anymore, but it felt like it still was. 

He scanned the rubble, tired eyes falling upon the Prime log which stood at the edge of the blast. The bell was gone, but the log remained. At least he had that, the one solace he had in this life. 

Was Dream talking? He should listen. Nothing good came when he didn’t.

“Are you even listening to me?” 

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, but as he did so, the dust from a third blast hit the back of his throat, causing him to let out a cough instead of a coherent response. Dream patted his back, a puff of charcoal dust escaping Tommy’s chapped lips. 

“You see, Tommy? This is why this is happening. You don’t listen. Friends listen to each other, and I just want to make sure we’re both walking down the same two-way street.”

“But…” Tommy’s head cleared just enough for him to speak his mind. “... But I did listen! I-“

“Tommy… Look at Logstead.” He gestured with his gloved hand. “Look at  _ yourself _ . I know what’s best for you, and now you know what happens when you try to do things your way.”

Dream was right. He had made that bunker out of spite and look where it had gotten him… What would he do without Dream? If he decided to never come back because he hadn’t listened? 

“Please don’t leave me.” He croaked, staring at the inhuman smile with half-lidded eyes.

Dream brushed tommys cheek with the back of his gloved hand and a smile crept into his voice. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” Dream eased a stick of TNT into Tommy’s limp hand. “Now let’s finish what you started.” 

\----

The ground shook a second, and then a third time as Philza sprinted towards Logstershire. He had assumed his son had lived in exile for 5 months and could do so for another day or so while he went and got back up. Apparently, he had assumed wrong. He had sent techno a short panicked message, and he could only hope he would know what to do. 

Drawing his sword, Phil stopped at the entrance to the settlement, looking upon the small crater that sat in place of the small building he had entered when he first arrived. 

“What In the bloody hell is happening over here! Dream! What did you-“

“I didn’t do anything Phil.” His voice was calm. “It’s all him.” He nudged Tommy. “Isn’t that right Tom’s?”

The boy turned slowly to face Phil with a nudge from Dream, but seemed shell-shocked and distant. Black soot dotted his face like extra freckles, his shirt had never been worse for wear, and his eyes were pleading, and stared right through Phil. 

He had seen that look before in the eyes of another son of his, right before he asked Phil to kill him. And just like that other son of his, this one stood over the crater of his home, stick of TNT in hand. 

“Tommy… you didn’t…”  _ Tommy wouldn’t have done this to his own home, would he?  _ Phil didn’t like this, he didn’t trust it one bit.

“Oh, but he did!” Dream insisted. “Go on, Tommy, tell him.”

There were no tear tracks through the dust on the boy’s cheeks, but there should have been by the look on his face. 

“It’s just like he said. It’s-it’s all me, all my f-fault. Dream is right.” He tried to wipe dirt from his face, but only managed to smudge it beneath his eye. “He’s always right.” Tommy echoed quietly. 

“Bullsh*t.” Phil burst forth, the hilt of his netherite blade held tightly in his grasp. He knew exactly what was happening, and if he couldn’t leave to get help, he would just have to take out the masked man here and now. 

Philza stopped dead in his tracks once Dream pulled out his weapon, but not because he pointed it at him. Instead, Dream had one hand tight on Tommy’s shoulder, and the other holding an axe at his throat.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His voice was unwavering. 

“You wouldn’t. Not after all this time and effort.”

“He’s my tool, Phil. Don’t make me use him.”

_ If only he had his wings _ , this would be so much easier. He had given them up a long time ago though, and without them, there was no way to reach Tommy before Dream sliced his throat. 

Phil had to make a choice: watch Tommy die at the hands of Dream now, or watch him be broken to the point of no return by the iron fist of the most feared man on the SMP. 

Phil was desperate. He looked to his son, who didn’t look afraid, or betrayed; just  _ empty _ . When did his son lose his spark? Had he again missed the turning point? When did he forget that it’s not the birthdays or holidays that matter most, but all the moments in-between? 

_ Was he going to lose another son? _

\----

Snow turned to grass as Technoblade rushed across the landscape on horseback. Carl, his trusty steed, had carried him to hell and back, and a message from Phil had revealed the need for a return trip on the path of brimstone. 

Tommy was in trouble, as if he weren’t always, but coming from Phil, that was all he needed to know. Logstershire was visible on the horizon, and smoke billowed from the small settlement. Technoblade adjusted Carl’s four beat canter to flying pace, only slowing as Phil came into view. He almost called out as he saw his father and friend, but thought better of it when he saw Dream holding a netherite blade at his brother’s neck. 

The voices didn’t need to tell him what to do. Whether or not they asked, someone was getting hurt. In a single swift motion, Techno drew an arrow and released it from his bow, the enchantments coursing through the weapon and into the projectile like violet blood. 

The arrow whistled through the air, striking Dream in the dead center of his mask, splitting it in two. Phil spun to face Techno as the arrow flew past him, face ridden with shock and relief. He couldn’t blame him. Normally it would have been at least half a day trip from the cabin to Tommy’s place of exile, but Techno had already been on his way, fortunately having changed his mind about visiting. 

Techno slid off his horse, sword drawn just in case, and joined Phil who was rushing to Tommy who seemed more worried about Dream than himself. 

“Dream!” Tommy gasped, falling to his knees to help the man who was now prone on the ground. 

“Tommy, get away from him!” Phil pleaded.

“Please be okay, you’re my only friend…” Tommy whispered.

“Sh*t...” Dream groaned, pulling off his mask to reveal his face. The arrow had split the porcelain, and left a bleeding, but non-lethal, wound on his forehead.

Tommy quickly scooted away, his worry turning to fear as Dream attempted to sit up. Technoblade quickly stepped in, placing a boot on Dreams chest, pushing him down onto the dirt.

“Technoblade.” He exclaimed with a pained laugh, attempting to push Techno’s shoe off of him “We can talk through this, we can-”

“Leave.”

“Wait-”

“I said.” Techno lowered his blade to the man’s exposed neck. “Leave.”

“Fine.” Dream nodded, scrambling to his feet as Techno eased his foot off him, and exiting Logstead. “This isn’t over Techno.” He didn’t look back. 

“Wait, Dream!” Tommy called, attempting to follow, but Phil placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“We need to go, Tommy.” 

“Where? And Dream doesn’t-”

“To Techno’s house, and Dream doesn’t matter. He’s gone, look.”

“Has he really gone? Just like everyone else?” Tommy whimpered. 

Phil looked to Techno and shook his head. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Technoblade announced, mounting his horse once again. “Unless you really want to stick around. Just grab your things.”

Tommy shuffled over to Carl. “I don’t have any things.” He glanced over to the remains of Logstead. “Not anymore.”

“I see…” Techno nodded solemnly, looking at his brother, _really_ looking at him, for the first time in several months. Technoblade had briefly visited him in exile, only to mock him for his folly, to remind him of how _he_ had betrayed Techno, not the other way around. Now Tommy looked so small, and his voice was quiet. His face was gaunt, and he gazed up at him with those eyes, blue, like the sky shining through the eye-sockets of an empty skull.

Phil interrupted the silence with encouragement “That’s okay Tommy. Where we’re going, you’ll never have to worry about having things again.”

“Never?” The boy seemed skeptical, nervously picking at his cuticles as he stood, hands empty and exposed. 

Phil let a smile cross his face despite the worry edging on his mind. Now he could be the father his son needed and deserved. The father he should have always been. 

“Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got stuck with a bit of writers block this time around (more like every time around) but I managed to get this chapter done! wohoo! Like said I might, i'll be adding a 5th chapter. I definitely didn't get to write enough Techno in this chapter, so i'll have to make plenty of room for him in the next one. (Which I plan on having be the last)
> 
> Thank you for all your kind comments, they really mean a lot! I've never finished a multi-chapter fic before (I'm almost there!) and they enourage me to keep on writing :) 
> 
> As usual, feel free to point out any glaring grammar and spelling mistakes. It's 2 a.m. Time isn't real. 
> 
> Feel free to check out my art on Twitter @vanillapeel or Instagram and Tumblr @meower808


	5. Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is safe now, but there is another journey ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW // Mentions of past injury (Implied to be from abuse or self harm), Mild derealization

After a period of time, immeasurable by Tommy’s hazy mind, they arrived at the cottage. With a gentle hand on Tommy’s back, Phil led him to the fireplace and replaced the bandages covering his arms that had been torn to shreds during the explosions. Underneath the dirt were various injuries, some newer than others. Phil didn’t ask. Tommy didn’t tell. He didn’t seem ready to explain the bruised skin on his upper arms and chest, or the scabs on his knuckles that were still healing over, or the skin scratched raw along his forearms. 

Tommy was clean, physically. He didn’t feel clean, not on the inside, not after today. It was like the ash he had inhaled would live on in him forever in place of the person he used to be, but he was free from the grime that had covered his skin, free from the body that had stood numb as his home had been taken from him once again. 

For the first time in months, he had new clothes, free of tears, suited for the weather outside, and not belonging to his dead older brother. His hair, which had grown long in exile, was fixed in a short ponytail by a lapis beads. Dream had offered to cut it, but Tommy had refused. The thought of letting that man touch him prickled his skin.

He should be happy, but the numbness had returned shortly after he stepped out from the warm water of the bath, away from the careful hands of his father, and the cautious gaze of his oldest brother. 

Without their presence, he couldn't hold down his thoughts. He couldn't grasp his surroundings. This didn't feel real. 

A knock at his door brought Tommy back to reality. He had a door now. He realized. No one could just walk into his sleeping quarters anymore. He could choose to be alone, because alone wasn’t the default anymore. 

“Uh, come in.” Tommy tried to make his voice loud and clear, but smoke and disuse were not on his side. 

“How you holdin’ up Tommy?”

“I’m not sure.” Something inside said the answer was a hard no, but the events of the past, not just day, but months, had left his words detached from his thoughts.

“Hmm, I don't think i'm much for comfortin’, but I can be honest and say a new cloak and outfit won’t change the past, Tommy, trust me, I would know.” 

Tommy pondered a response, a way to explain himself to what could be assumed to be the emotional equivalent of a brick wall. 

“I just- I can’t help but wonder why... why Dream- Why- why me Techno? Why have I always got to end up here?”

“Here? This is the first time you’ve been to my house.”

“Well- not technically the f-first-”

“What?”

“But that’s not what I mean! I mean here as in at the mercy of s-someone else! Someone is always there to push me around. Dream, Schlatt, Wilbur even, and Tubbo- he’s my best friend, but he’s also p-president now, and he exiled me! He didn’t visit me when- well, and anyway, now it’s you and Phil. I’m still waiting for you to send me away too! You’ve just given me this cloak and these new sh-shoes while you bide your time waiting to knock me down a peg just like everybody else. I know i’m irresponsible and reckless, I know I need to listen, I know i’m not a hero, I know nobody really cares about me. I get it!” He lowered his head into his hands. Finally he said in a quiet voice, “I’ve learned.” It had all just broken loose, a flood from a dam that couldn’t hold back the tide any longer. There was still so much he couldn’t bring himself to say. 

Technoblade listened carefully, absorbing his brother’s words. This wasn’t the same brother who had been exiled, or who had walked into Techno’s vault, eyes full of wonder, or who had last sat on that bench with his best friend, disc gently spinning on its turntable. 

“Tommy, Phil and I aren’t going to send you away.” 

“Y-you’re not?”

“We didn’t save you from Dream just so you can die out in the snow. Look, I don’t know what Dream did before the whole blowing up your camp thing, but whatever he told you was probably a lie. There’s no lesson worth learning that ends with you the way you are now.”

“I still don’t get why? And Dream? Is it wrong to miss him? Why would he do this? None of this makes sense, it’s all…” He shook his head “It’s all foggy. They say you’re supposed to come out the other side with clarity- I haven’t got that at all!”

“That’s because you’re not out the other side, Tommy. First off, Dream’s crazy. It won’t help tryin’ to make sense of what he did today, or any day. People, the world, it doesn’t always come together to make sense. If you want a reason why you’re here, you’re gonna have to make one. I don’t have your answers, neither will anyone else. This kind of ordeal can damage you, irreparably, I know. You’re bending Tommy, but I don’t think you’re gonna break.”

“What if I’ve already broken?” Tommy looked to his brother with those hollow eyes, vast and empty like the sky above. 

Technoblade did something he hadn’t done for a long time, and gently pulled his brother into a hug, moving slow as not to startle him. “We’ll glue the pieces back together. All of us, together, okay?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit of a shorter chapter, but I did it! I finished my first multi-chapter fic! :)
> 
> I have a fic in mind that could work either as an alternate ending or sequel to this one, so be on the lookout for that :o
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading <3
> 
> ( I also post art on instagram and tumblr (@meower808) as well as on Twitter (@vanillapeel). I post a lot of dsmp, and i'm currently working on an animatic. So if you like my stuff, feel free to drop a follow! )


End file.
